


One Step At a Time

by gAAmAtsU16



Category: Free!
Genre: Car Accidents, Ep6, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 02:33:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16693783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gAAmAtsU16/pseuds/gAAmAtsU16
Summary: Hiyori gets in an accident, and Ikuya has to tread delicately in a life where his best friend doesn’t remember him.





	One Step At a Time

**Author's Note:**

> After watching Free! Dive to the Future, I have been baptized as an official HiyoIku shipper! <3  
> This ship is just so @##$@$%^!@#!!! So, first attempt.

“Hey,” a warm voice speaks behind him and the boy being called turns around, “Good morning, Ikuya.”

It took all of Ikuya’s self-restraint not to break down on spot. Everything seems normal but at the same time is not. He should be immune. It’s been months. “Good morning too, Hiyori.”

He waits for the brown-haired to catch up to him. “I heard you’ve been scouted. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” Ikuya says, deadpanned.

“Come on, you can sound a little bit more enthusiastic about it.”

Ikuya just shrugs and Hiyori exhales in defeat. “Really, nothing pumps you up. Except swimming. And this is swimming-related, I thought you’d be more excited about it than I am.”

“It’s not a big deal, Hiyori.”He manages, barely a croak. And it really isn’t. At least, not anymore.

“What’s wrong?” Hiyori, _of course,_ notices the slight pitch of his voice. _He always does._

“Nothing.” Ikuya gives him his back, shies away before Hiyori could further read him, and begins walking again.

Hiyori fell in a steady pace beside him. Normalcy. This. He and Hiyori walking to school together. But his mind was screaming at him how different this is. Hiyori walks quietly by his side, smiling, gazing at their surroundings and Ikuya thought if this was normal, Hiyori would be chatting aimlessly. He would ask and probe of Ikuya’s itinerary like the mother hen that he is. Instead, there was stillness existing between them. And Ikuya had never felt how deafening quietness is until now.

* * *

 

_Ikuya lay in his bed, insomniac and rolling over uncomfortably. He could blame the physical strain he’d endured during practice earlier but he knows he’d usually be out like a log the soonest his head hits the pillows. But he’s not. He’s wide-eyed and jittery. And Ikuya knows why._

_He reaches for his phone. The screen says its past midnight, past his curfew, past his scheduled time of sleep. Instead, he unlocks the gadget and goes to his message inbox. No messages from Hiyori. He grits his teeth._ Why would I be the first one to text him? _Ikuya muses bitterly._ He’s always the one poking his nose in my goddamn business.

_But the dire leaves him quickly. It’s effort to stay mad at someone who just worries for you. And Ikuya knows concern is second nature to Hiyori. Nevertheless, what transpired that evening still left him questioning himself. He knows Hiyori was partly correct; Haru’s unexpected return to his life was like opening a window in his room and not knowing what to do. It leads him to places and he doesn’t know where to start. He was still grudging yes, but there was exhaustion with it. He’s tired of being mad, to Haru, Asahi and the rest, even to Hiyori._

_He lets out a long sigh. He’s going to have to man up and try to smooth out the dent he’s made between him and Hiyori. He felt guilty leaving him in the park but he’s scared he’d lash out further if he did. Hiyori might be an annoying brown-noser but he doesn’t deserve unnecessary wrath from him. He’s going to deal with this in the morning. Right now, he needs sleep. But it’s not something he has the liberty to._

RRRIIIINNNNGGGG. RRRIIIIINNNNGGGG. _His phone shakes with an oncoming call. He picks it up and his brows furrowed at the caller. “Nii-san?, why are you calling—“_

_“Ikuya, Hiyori’s in the hospital!” His brother’s frantic voice boomed over the receiver. “He’s had a car accident.”_

* * *

 

“…kuya….Hey, Ikuya.” A hand lands on his shoulder.

Ikuya stops. He blinks, and looks up. “Huh?”

Hiyori’s brows crunched up in worry. “Are you all right? You seem pretty distracted. I called you like, ten times now.”

“I-I’m fine. Just a little dizzy. I stayed up late last night to finish an essay.” He lies lamely.

Hiyori doesn’t seem convinced but drops the subject fortunately. “That’s why I said you have to have a decent sleep time. It’s not conducive for you. You’re an athlete. You need to take proper care of yourself, y’know.”

“Right.” Ikuya replies. He looks back up at him again. “How’s your head?”

Hiyori instinctively touches a hand to the back of his skull. “It’s healed up pretty nice, so don’t worry. I’ve been to the doctor last week and they already removed the stitches.”

“That’s great.” It really is.

Hiyori senses his disinterest and opts to switch topics. “Graduation is coming up fast.”

Nothing stings than being reminded of the end of another academic year, a solid proof of another end to being unsuccessful in putting back puzzles in Hiyori’s life.

“Yeah. Hoshikawa-senpai and the rest of the third years will be retiring from the swim team.”

“That’s sad. Then the next captain should just do his best to live up to their expectations.” Hiyori smiles at him.

“That’s absurd. I’m not captain-material.” _You are._

“Don’t be silly, Ikuya. No one’s put in a lot of hardwork and patience in their swimming career than you. You’ll go places. You’re talented and efficient. There’s no one more deserving to captain the team than you.”

“If you say so.”

“I know so.”

 _Yes, you do._   _You know everything about me. But Hiyori,_ Ikuya’s fist clenched, _I don’t want to stand on the same room without you beside me. I don’t want to swim with anyone else if it’s not you._

“How’s…” Ikuya begins but falters.

Ever the perceptive, Hiyori understands what he means instantaneously. He smiles at him, almost apologetically. “I still…can’t remember most things.”

Ikuya regretted that day he and Hiyori got into their first fight. He regretted every goddamn second of it and craved for the utmost redemption. Hiyori forgetting; his habits, routine, friends, _him_ , was the most painful penance for his sin.

“I’m sorry, Ikuya.” Hiyori means it. He really is sorry and that stabs more knives in Ikuya’s already fragmented heart because Hiyori _should_ not apologize for what happened.

“It’s all right.” But the words sound disbelieving coming from his own mouth.

* * *

 

 _The_ beep beep beep _sound of the heart monitor could not drown the rumbling wails of dread deep at the pit of Ikuya’s stomach. Natsuya was outside, talking to the doctor. Hiyori’s immediate kin was overseas and his brother has stepped up as surrogate guardian for the moment._

_Ikuya’s hand freezes at the door frame. It’s been a week since they got the call and five days after Hiyori underwent trauma surgery. He’s been transferred from the ICU to a room in the third floor._

_“Hello,” a voice gravitates his focus to the boy on the bed—weak, pale, battered, but undeniably beaming._

_A fist superficially encloses on Ikuya’s heart. “Hey.” He walks over to the patient, footsteps heavy despite his lithe frame. He stands on the edge of the bed, avoiding the vacant chair. “You’re awake.”_

_A soft chuckle. “I am.” Hiyori narrows his eyes, puzzled. “Can I ask, what happened?”_

_“You’ve been hit by a car.” Ikuya recounts simply. “It was late and dark and you were at the curb when…the idiot driver speeds up and failed to see you. You hit the rails, hard.” Hiyori unconsciously presses at the bandages over his head. “You had cranial hemorrhage and massive internal bleeding, they said. They had to stitch it up and operated on you. It’s been a week since the accident.”_

_“And…I’ve just woken up.” Hiyori drawls, Ikuya nods in affirmation. “And…and my parents?”_

_“They were informed. But they’re halfway across the world and can’t come back on such short notice. Natsuya’s been granted legal rights to handle the decision-making pertaining your condition. The doctors still want to do some tests but we had to wait until you’ve regained consciousness.” Ikuya bends just a little to place a soothing hand on Hiyori’s lap. It’s a guilty impulse. He wants to touch him, to confirm he’s really alive and_ there. _“I’m really…really glad you’re okay, Hiyori. I-I’m sorry for what happened. I…”_

_Hiyori tilts his head, lips curving to form a mild smile. “Why are you apologizing? It’s clearly not your fault.”_

_“No, it is!” Ikuya snaps. Hiyori blinks at his outburst and he reins in the frustration. Hiyori doesn’t need this now. “Sorry. I’m sorry, it’s just been…a really stressful week.”_

_“I can tell.” Hiyori pats the hand on his leg. It’s a consoling move. He then pursued his lips, a gesture Ikuya knows by heart that teeters on uncertainty._

_“What’s wrong?”_

_“I…” Hiyori swallows hard, grips at Ikuya’s hand tighter as if in trepidation, “…I’m sorry…I…really don’t want to ruin the moment but…” he lifts eyes that were full of regret and sorrow and his next words cut through Ikuya sharper than stained steel, “…who are you?”_

* * *

 

“Oi, its fuckin good to see you, Toono!”

“Language, senpai.”

“Whatever. C’mere, you little bastard.”

Hoshikawa pulls the brown-haired and entangles him in a headlock. Ikuya watches the interaction with mirth and lament, like he wanted to photograph the moment and tear the picture afterwards.

“Are you abled enough to get back to swimming?” Terashima Kotarou asks and the jovial atmosphere dropped to chilly.

Hiyori smiles, _again with that smile_ , as Ikuya turns towards the locker rooms to change to his swim gear. “I’m sorry, Kotarou-san but the doctor was strict with no physical exertions in the duration of my treatment yet.”

“But it’s been…” the blonde pauses, unable to finish his statement. It’s been six months. And Hiyori still wasn’t that close to piecing back up his torn memories. It’s a painstakingly _slow_ process.

“I’m really sorry.” Hiyori insists dejectedly. “Truth be told, I—my mind is still really fuzzy with lots of missing pieces and I…” He looks down in shame and grief, “…I don’t remember how to swim yet.”

This was torture. Ikuya had an iron reserve he’d shaped in the years since Haru’s defection from swimming. His impenetrable fort was teetering by overwhelming regret and guilt over the loss of the things that defined Hiyori. It was one thing for him to forget Ikuya, he thought maybe he even deserved it, but forgetting even his adoration for swimming was something Ikuya would bring to his grave.

Hoshikawa senses the sourness and slaps Kotarou’s back. “Toono’s still recovering, dumbass. The school’s granted him leave from curricular activities. He’ll just have to suffer as jealous bystander for the rest of the semester.” He meant it as a joke but even that sounded strained.

“That’s cruel, senpai.” It’s an offhanded remark but Hiyori sounds so sincere. “Well, guess I’ll just have to feast on your antagonistic natures of trying to beat each other out.”

They exchange more friendly banter. Ikuya’s had enough. He stormed to the dressing room and flung his locker open. Why? Why does it have to be Hiyori? He’s never done anything wrong to be at the situation he’s in now. It should’ve been Ikuya who gets to be punished but Hiyori…

The tears came. Ikuya let them fall. He realized he hasn’t cried again, not after barreling into the hospital and demanding to see Hiyori. He’s caught a glimpse of him in the emergency room and if the blood was any indication to how grave his predicament is, Ikuya cried then and there on the spot. Natsuya shushed him, giving him warmth and support but all Ikuya could think was how _close_ he’s come to losing Hiyori that day and how there was a gaping hole opening in his chest, a horrible lack where Hiyori had been.

He tugs on his Kirishima reserve, pulls on his mask and equips himself with the indifference he’s used as ammunition against the harshness of life. He’s just stripped down to his swim trunks when he feels another presence in the room. “Hiyori,” he acknowledges the boy standing by the entryway. He wipes at his eyes abruptly. “How…how long have you been there?”

Hiyori gives him a shrug. He comes closer and levels with Ikuya, looming taller than him. He raises fingers to brush at Ikuya’s cheek where a few tear tracks remain. “You’re crying again.”

It wasn’t a question, Ikuya notices. “I’m fine. My locker’s just pretty dusty.”

Hiyori chuckles. “You’re a really bad liar, Ikuya.” He flicks at his forehead. “I’m really sorry for not remembering.”

“Don’t.” Ikuya says, loud and strong. “Don’t apologize. Not for that. Please.”

Hiyori gives him a look—it’s mixed of yearning, sadness and another that Ikuya can’t put his thumb in. “All right. But that doesn’t make me feel less guilty.” He retrieves the stopwatch hanging by Ikuya’s locker. “Come on, I’ll time you.”

Hiyori exits first, not noticing Ikuya hasn’t followed him. _‘Come on, I’ll time you’_ was as conventional as Hiyori’s mere presence. Despite not recalling, his subconscious was allowing him to act as though nothing has changed. Even when Ikuya grudgingly accepts it has.

* * *

 

_“I’ve discovered lots of things today.” Hiyori declares._

_“Yeah?”_

_Hiyori nods. The pair was walking home from school, a month after Hiyori was released from the hospital. He still has a bandaged head though. “I still haven’t remembered all the important facts so you can humor me along the way.”_

_“Yeah sure, whatever.”_

_“First, I’m surprisingly mundane.” Ikuya turns sharply at him at that but Hiyori waves it off nonchalantly. “I meant that in a good way. Sure, lots of my classmates probed of my condition and asked me if I’m all right but after that, things settled lukewarmly. They didn’t bother me again. Therefore, I conclude I am not a socially inept person.” He laughs softly like he’s just said a pun. Only Ikuya understands the gravity of his words and confirmed what he had missed all those years; that Hiyori was a distractedly lonely person._

_“Second, I apparently am on the swim team, like you said. And I expertised in…breast stroke?” He turns to Ikuya to confirm that which the latter did with a nod. “Huh. I don’t actually believe it myself since that feat requires tremendous upper strength and arm power and I’m kinda lanky. Plus, I have bad eyesight. How I managed to swim without glasses is a mystery.” Hiyori grins at the mental picture. “And I have nosy and noisy teammates. I can’t recall most of their names but they seem…friendly.”_

_The entire swim team was devastated when they heard the news. They’ve visited occasionally during Hiyori’s confinement but even their massive presence wasn’t enough to tip his brain back into memorization._

_Hiyori continued his tale. “I’m enamored with Literature. I’m quite surprised when you told me, then my classmates confirmed it and when I saw all those books at my apartment I was stoked to utter bewilderment.”_

_That, Ikuya can attest. “You really love The Little Mermaid.”_

_“I do?”_

No, I do. But you love what I love. _It took Ikuya a couple minutes to response. “Yeah. I have a copy you frequently borrow.”_

_“Really? That’s cool.” He gave Ikuya a blinding grin that stirred the dead butterflies in his stomach._

_“You also became really chatty, did you know that?” Ikuya says as counter to his feelings of unrest._

_“I wasn’t before?” Hiyori looks contemplative. Ikuya stays quiet. “I guess, I was not huh. Just…it feels like there’s lots of things I want to say, things that are bottled up inside and just clamoring to burst. I don’t even understand what most of them means.” He laughs but it was a forced laugh. “I’m sorry, Ikuya. You must be uncomfortable, seeing me like this. I know you remembered me as a polar opposite, yeah?”_

_Ikuya shrugs, not denying but not agreeing either. “I don’t mind the change. Nothing seemed to have altered except you’ve gotten more talkative.” And it might be a good change, perhaps. Seeing as communication had been the key to the degradation of their friendship and what had started the entire Haru fiasco._

_“I see. That’s also one of the things I’ve concluded today.”_

_“What is?” they stopped at the foot of the subway._

_“That nothing changed between you and me.”_

_“Of course. What of it?” Ikuya hears honking in the distance. The train’s coming._

_“That Ikuya knows me so well.” A hand clasps on his forearm, steering him to face the tall man. “Because Ikuya is a very cherished person in my life.”_

_Ikuya stares into those twin pools of brown, a void so vast and deep he feels he’s being sucked into it. Was Hiyori’s gaze always that intense before?_

_“They said Ikuya is an important person in my life.” Hiyori says proudly. “You’re my best friend, after all.”_

_The moment vanishes, like ink in water. Hiyori smiles fondly at him, tugging his arm as the train door’s open and they walk in on the platform. Ikuya still didn’t withdraw his eyes from Hiyori. His declaration, of remembering_ at least _that Ikuya was his best friend should make him happy. But all Ikuya felt was melancholy. Because he didn’t understand why the label brought more remorse than relief. Best friend. Deep down, he realized, he had wanted to be labeled beyond that. Had wanted to right from the get go. And now, as Hiyori chatters beside him unknowingly oblivious, he couldn’t redefine their relationship beyond what it is._

* * *

 

There’s tension here, Ikuya could feel it. Microscopic but lingering.

They’re seated in a table in Asahi’s sister’s coffee shop. The two from Shimogami were invited over by his middle school friends for some cordial respite. The rigidity between them had died after the All-Japan qualifiers and Hiyori’s accident but this was the first time Hiyori was invited in their get-together.

Ikuya watches Makoto and Asahi converse with Hiyori as if tautness was non-existent between them. They had mentioned the frostiness that came off Hiyori when they were first met, all unknown to Ikuya, and it was hard to believe such ever existed, not with the warmth and amiable conversation they seem to be engrossed in.

Only Haru seem to be on guard, and it is where the tension was radiating from, despite the stoic youth’s efforts to keep it at bay. After a lengthy indulgence to their teenage perks, Haru excuses himself to the rest room and Ikuya, after sharing a knowing glance with Makoto, stands up to follow.

Haru’s bent over the sink when Ikuya enters the small washroom. “Haru.” He calls, soft and meek.

The star freestyler didn’t seem to hear him, or chose not to. He didn’t loose any reaction to Ikuya’s calling him so Ikuya tries again, this time firmer. “Haru.” This time, it earns him a short elevation of his head.

Ikuya stilled then. There’s distance between them and he let it, as he felt things might escalate heatedly.

“I’m sorry.” The apology came so sudden, so out-of-the-blue that Ikuya thought he misheard it.

“What?”

Haru straightens and looks at him with fierce blue eyes. “What happened with Toonu-kun…I’m sorry.”

That only sent more confusion to Ikuya. “What? Why are you…apologizing?”

“It’s my fault.” Haru says.

“No. It’s not your fault.” Ikuya was strangely getting riled up.

Haru shook his head, defiance in his stance. “I know we didn’t end things well in middle school. I know I have apologized and we’ve moved past that—“

“Yes, we’ve moved past that. It’s over. We’re over it. Stop bringing the past back, Haru.” Ikuya cuts in.

“—but if it weren’t for that, you wouldn’t have to suffer such mental paralysis and self-loathe. And…and Toonu-kun, he wouldn’t have been so worried for you.” Haru continues, ignoring Ikuya’s anger. “I understand now what I didn’t before. That Toonu was only looking out for you, for your well-being and mentality. He was just protecting you from us. After we’ve scratched at your goals and made you question your self-worth, we left you alone. And you…you were _hurt_ because of that. You were unable to move on, unable to see but the darkness of the night. I’m sorry, Ikuya…I—“

A fist slams on the mirror. “This is not about you, Haru!” Ikuya yells. Ire and frustration played at his brain and they were domineering, oozing out of his system and lashing into Haru. “Get your mind off the bloody cloud for one goddamn second, you conceited bastard! This is not your fault. This is not unto you. Stop butchering your pride and feeding your self-guilt. Stop blaming yourself for every goddamn thing.” He reaches to pull roughly at Haru’s shirt. “Quit being melodramatic, you asshole. You’ve hurt me. You made me cry. You made me stronger. If there’s someone I hate the most, it’s not you, Haru. It’s me!”

“Ikuya…” Haru’s holding his wrist now but he doesn’t care.

“I hate myself. Okay? I hate myself. I hate that I latched into you like a leech, like a filthy slug. I hate you for quitting back then. I hate Makoto for following you and Asahi for leaving. I hate that you made me feel inferior with my swimming and my life and I hate myself for even harboring such resentment against you when it was all my goddamn fault. My punishment. My sorrows. My isolation. All of it. I did it all to myself. And Hiyori suffered the worst end of it.” He was crying. Tears and snot leaked out his face. But he couldn’t stop the words. He won’t. He can’t. “Hiyori…he genuinely cared for me. And all I did was push him away. I was hurt and I hurt him too. And now, he can’t remember me. Not all of me. His life’s been stripped away of all its significance and I am to blame. If we hadn’t fought back then…If I hadn’t left him…” Ikuya realizes he’s on his knees and Haru’s grasping his shoulders to steady him, “I-I…love him…I love him, Haru. And if…this isn’t the right time for me to realize that-that I have been in love with him from the start, he doesn’t even remember me…He forgot…about me…”

He’s a sobbing mess in the bathroom floor. Haru’s hands envelop him but they were not the comfort he seek.

* * *

 

_Hiyori stares at the books on his lap and Ikuya couldn’t help himself but ask._

_“You don’t like them?” He’s not proud of his book preferences, not being a voracious reader in the first place, but he thought he’d bring some for Hiyori to read during his pastime. “I can lend you some other—“_

_“Ahh, it’s not that.” Hiyori cuts him off, giving him a tender smile. “I don’t mind reading these. I can’t remember the genres I like anyhow so I don’t mind.”_

_Ikuya’s bravado caves in with Hiyori’s words. “I’m sorry.”_

_“Hey, don’t be. These look interesting anyway.”Hiyori leans back on the headrest, contemplative. “It’s just…this somehow feels pretty nostalgic.”_

_“You remembered something?” Ikuya’s mood perked up instantaneously._

_“Not really. Just flashes of sort. Like a cable with a terrible reception.” Hiyori starts, voice drawling, shoulders relaxing akin to a baby gently being lulled, “There’s a…very warm, very fond sensation, here,” he palms his chest, “It’s comfortable, like what home feels like but at the same time…distressing.” He laughs suddenly, turning to Ikuya, “Sorry. Do I sound weird?” Then his eyes widened minutely, “Ikuya, what’s wrong?”_

_Ikuya doesn’t know either. Just that liquid began to spill from his eyes and he didn’t even have the energy to wipe them away. Because he_ knows _that memory. He remembers that recollection. It was when he was hospitalized in America after his second drowning incident. The roles had been reversed that time; he as the patient on the bed and Hiyori the one lending him books, ever the stern presence in his midst. He regretted then not finishing any of the books Hiyori lent him._

_When he saw Hiyori’s worried glance, he rubs at his sockets. “I’m fine.” He plasters his strong masquerade and returns the smile. “If you really disliked those, I can let you borrow one of my favorites.”_

_Hiyori examined his features but even his exceptional mind-reading skills were thwarted by the wall of Ikuya’s reserve. He answers after a deep sigh. “Yeah?”_

_Ikuya nods. “How does the Little Mermaid sound to you?”_

* * *

 

“I’ll have the caramel latte and a piece of the oreo cheesecake.” Hiyori tells the waitress on the cashier. He turns to the green-haired standing stoically behind. “What about you, Ikuya?”

 _Pistachio-smoothie. But you_ should’ve _known that._ “Pistachio smoothie.” He says blankly.

Hiyori scrunched up his nose. “I don’t understand why you like that flavor. It’s sultry.”

Ikuya’s fist clenched lightly. “It’s my favorite.”

“Oh.” Hiyori gaped at him, blinks thrice before he smiles sheepishly. “Sorry, Ikuya. I forgot.”

“It’s fine.” But the response was more steel than silk.

Their orders are punched in and they get a seat near the windows. There was an awkward silence hanging around them like an invisible halo. There wasn’t awkwardness between them then. There s _houldn’t_ be awkwardness between them.

“I’m sorry.” Hiyori deflates first. As usual.

“It’s fine.” But Ikuya didn’t look at him.

“I’m really sorry, Ikuya.”

“I said it’s fine!”

Hiyori slumped back at the harsh retort. Ikuya gasped softly, realizing his error and dips his head down again.

It’s as if there’s static in the air between them. It’s biting and crackling. Ikuya could feel its jolt in his skin and made the hairs on his hand stand when Hiyori again speaks up.

“What’s wrong, Ikuya?” Ikuya didn’t reply so Hiyori pressed. “I’m really sorry, for not remembering your favorite.”

“It’s not that.” _It’s more than that._

“I don’t want this silence between us. It’s…suffocating, like there’s a bomb about to drop anytime and poach all our air out. I don’t…I don’t want such tension dividing us.” Hiyori gives him a look, a cross of torment and anguish but Ikuya fails to see it with his face turned away. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me.”

“It’s not that, Hiyori.” Ikuya says.

“Then why are you not looking at me?”

That got a reaction. Slowly, as if gravity had leash shackled at his neck, he lifts his face. Hiyori’s a mirror of his own mournfulness. It’s a sickeningly dull feeling to look at.

They stare for a good five minutes before Hiyori delivers the unspoken root of their dilemma. “You’re not responsible for this.”

Surprisingly, Ikuya didn’t get angry. Yet. “How can you say that?” His response was cool, controlled.

Hiyori swallows but soldiers through. “They said…we had a fight, the day of my accident.” He saw Ikuya tense, “I don’t remember what we fought over for. And you didn’t mention that to me either. Whatever transpired, it was grave, for you to not speak about it. It could even be that…”

The pause was nerve-wracking. “…that I use it as ammunition for my self-loathe right now, is that it?” Ikuya finishes for Hiyori. The silence was confirmation enough. Ikuya let out a bitter laugh. “Well, you’re still a smartass, aren’t you? Always thinking that you _know_ everything about me.” He stands up with stiffness and glowers at Hiyori when internally he chastised himself for such offensive course of action. “You don’t understand a thing about me.”

“Caramel latte and Pistachio smoothie?” a waiter approaches their table, unaware of the tension-filled situation.

Ikuya straightens and looks at Hiyori squarely. “Sorry.”  He departs.

Hiyori didn’t follow him, like that time. Ikuya said ‘sorry’ again, like that time. But this is different. Ikuya then didn’t know what he was apologizing for to Hiyori apart from his angry outburst. It was not even whole-hearted. The apology this time conveyed all the bottled up emotion Ikuya’s feeling that one word couldn’t possibly reveal.

_Sorry, I left you alone that time._

_Sorry, I didn’t try to understand in your view point._

_Sorry, I was selfish and close-minded and erratic._

_Sorry, I didn’t value you and your friendship more._

_Sorry, I made you forget me._

_And Sorry, I wanted for you to remember me so much but I don’t think I deserve it._

Ikuya reached the intersection and he vaguely recalls not having paid his order. He laughs humorlessly, Hiyori pitching in for that maybe. He looks up the bleak, darkening sky. This kind of is like a replay of that confrontation at the evening park—with Ikuya lashing and leaving Hiyori to make sense of his words. Ikuya would’ve laughed at the foolishness of things except Hiyori doesn’t remember that, so the sharp pain on his chest was felt only by him.

* * *

 

_“I don’t see the stars.” Eyes stare blankly at the night sky._

_“I could see them back then. That day, both in the sky and in the pool, and right over my and Haru’s heads, so many stars are raining down. I felt like all my wishes would come true, like I had been set free.”_

_Eyes open. To reality. To the truth. “But I was wrong. I was still weak as ever.” The ugly truth. The awful facet of wishful thinking and weak determination._

_An opposition. “You’re strong, Ikuya.”_

_“Even if I sink, no one’s gonna save me anymore. So I have to get stronger on my own. That’s why I practiced so hard.”_

_“You could aim for the global level. You could compete globally.”_

_“But I couldn’t get stronger.” That’s the truth. The ugly truth._

_“That’s not true!” A body nears. There’s a boundary. A rift. “You’ve gotten a lot stronger. You can become who you want to be.” A presence so close, yet at the same time so far. “You don’t have to wish on stars to make your dreams come true.” There was pain in the voice, and defeat, and sorrow. It was a cacophony of heartache._

_Deaf ears. Cold heart. “In exchange for her voice, the little mermaid gained human legs and excruciating pain. I gave up my heart in order to get stronger. Or I thought I did but…I couldn’t become human.”_

_“You’re wrong!” Again, the opposition. Louder. Stronger. “You’re not the Little Mermaid.”_

_“I can’t be strong like Haru.” No use. Understanding fails when the heart already accepts the ugly truth._

_A hand. Falling. Stops. Bodies so close. Breaths against breaths. Encased. Trapped._

_“Can’t you just forget about Nanase already?” Anger. There was anger. “I can’t stand to see you suffering because of him any longer.”_

_An opposition. “I’ll think about myself, for myself.”_

_An opposition. “You could aim for the global level. I know you can do it. You can become a new you. If that’ll bring you happiness—“_

_Something snaps. “You don’t…You don’t understand anything. Don’t talk like you do!”_

_A stumble. But feet holds firm. “You’re not the normal Ikuya right now. Ever since you saw Nanase…Just forget about him. Ikuya…” A dam breaks. The water rising. It floods. “Why don’t you get it?! That would be the best thing for you right now!”_

_A push. A wall. The water halts. “It’s not your concern, Hiyori!”_

_It cuts. Through the night. Through whatever veil that was in between. Slices through cleanly, smoothly._

_It stops. Ceases. Bodies separated by only air but by something so much more._

_“Sorry…” A step back. A closure. A retreat. An end._

_There was Silence._

_Silence._

_SILENCE._

* * *

 

Ikuya’s ignored his phone for the last weeks so of course he’d get the news late.

He was  walking home from swim practice late that afternoon when he happened upon Makoto at the street.

“Hiyori’s at the hospital?” He practically screamed, earning the attention of some onlookers.

Makoto shushed him. “This is because Ikuya’s not answering to our calls or messages for several days now.”

“When? Why?”

At this Makoto gives him a serious look, holds it for a couple minutes before it paves way to a wide grin. “I think you should know that for yourself. He’s still in the hospital If I recall from Natsuya-senpai.” Ikuya pouted and dictated an on slew of quiet profanities. “You can’t blame him, Ikuya. He’s been contacting you too but you’re the one who’s giving everyone the cold shoulder.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Ikuya’s guilt at leaving Hiyori and spouting emotional crap at his face once more left him socially deactivated. He felt so insecure and embarrassed that he completely gave all of them the silent treatment. Hiyori included.

“If you go there now, you can still make it before visitation hours end. He’s on the third floor.”

“Right.” Ikuya exhales, gathers his willpower and strides to the direction of the General Hospital.

“And Ikuya,” Makoto calls after him when he was a good meters away, “Hiyori asked me to bring him a fruitcake earlier.” He smiled brightly. “Congratulations.”

Ikuya was filled with excitement and anxiety all at once he thinks he’s gonna throw up. He makes it to the hospital, into the floor intended and outside the room in record time. He knocks and just opens the door without consent from the recipient. There, he finds Hiyori sitting on the bed, half a fruit cake left on the box.

“You don’t like Fruitcakes.” Ikuya says as greeting.

Hiyori looks up, smiles and offers the remaining dessert. “But you do.”

There’s a choke on Ikuya’s throat. “I like pistachio-flavors.”

“That too.” Hiyori places the plate down and forks into a strawberry. “But there was that pastry shop near the school. They have no pistachio or caramel sweets but you surprisingly developed a fond taste for their fruitcake.” Hiyori seems to be getting closer. Or rather it’s Ikuya’s who’s coming closer.

“Natsuya could’ve told you that.” One step, two step.

“Perhaps. But I had Tachibana buy this from Anne’s.” The smile he gives was bedazzling. “It’s a peace offering.”

The space that was between them disappeared. Ikuya presses himself to Hiyori, hands around his neck, face against his shoulder. Tears were spilled and wet his hospital shirt but Hiyori returned the embrace with as much fervor.

When they entangled, Ikuya was sitting on the bed near Hiyori’s lap, his arms on his forearms, his on the swimmer’s lithe waist. Hiyori brushes a stray tear from his cheek.

“I remembered I used to give you fruitcakes every time we got into a fight.”

“And I used to tell you I hate them because they’re not pistachios.” Ikuya leans into the hug. “But I’ll eat them and when you ask If I did, I’ll tell you I threw them away.”

Hiyori laughed. “I don’t remember that one.” He sees the change in Ikuya’s expression and salvages the moment, with a kiss to his cheek. “I still can’t remember everything, Ikuya. That memory, of Anne’s and the fruit cake as peace offering came only to me a few days ago. There’s still…tons of missing pieces in the puzzles and I don’t know if they’ll fully come back or not at all. The memories we shared…I can’t remember them.”

Ikuya traps Hiyori’s face in both his palms, his eyes fiery and passionate. “Then, we’ll make new ones. One step at a time. You don’t have to remember them. We’ll create better ones. This time,” he pressed their foreheads together, “Together. We’ll make them together.”

“I don’t know if I _loved_ you, Ikuya. Maybe I did.” Hiyori places a quick kiss on Ikuya’s lips. “But I know I love you _now_.”

Ikuya laughs, happy, soft, uplifting. “I love you too, Hiyori. It took you forgetting for me to remember that I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why some have negative conceptions for Hiyori. He does lack decent background info and came out possessive and annoying in the first eps (I sure did get annoyed lmao) but in the end he just genuinely cares for Ikuya and I think it's a good foundation since Ikuya has self-destruction tendencies. I love to read more fics about these pair and somehow wish their relationship could be delved in further :)
> 
> PS: This is inspired by an AoKise fic with kinda the same setting. I forgot the title but I swear it's not copy&paste lol


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